in my hands, in my heart
by andsocanshe
Summary: "They'd settled on 'we're not trying, but we're not not trying so if it happens, it happens' yet after four months of that, it started to feel a lot more like trying. Trying to get pregnant." - Things have rarely come without patience for the two of them, so why would having a baby be any different? - One shot, post-series.


_Guess who wrote more baby fic? We're not surprised! Firstly though, I'd like to preface this by saying that it __does_ _deal with mild fertility issues which is both a touchy subject and something people aren't interested in reading, which I completely understand. Secondly, for all the baby fic that I've written, I've never written this scenario before so bear with me — it's not even necessarily something that I headcanon for Darvey, but I started it and couldn't stop._

_Anyway, this note has been long enough, so huge thank you to my always stellar beta, Heather, for dealing with me + about seven weeks of writer's block while I tried to get this out of my system._

* * *

_in my hands, in my heart_

—

They'd settled on _we're not trying, but we're not not trying so if it happens, it happens _yet after four months of that, it started to feel a lot more like trying.

Trying to get pregnant.

And Donna felt her own neutrality slip into disappointment after the third test came back negative in just as much time.

"I know we agreed that…" she tried to mask the disappointment in her eyes as she met Harvey's behind her in the bathroom mirror, the reflection of the offending object — a negative plastic pregnancy test — glaring up at them. "But I just…"

"I know. Me too," he murmured, leaving a delicate kiss on her neck. She didn't need to say the words because he felt it too, and whatever unbalanced weight they carried between them was made equal by the way his heart ached seeing the unease in her eyes.

"I don't know why I'm so upset, Harvey. I… I feel ridiculous. We never actually decided to try. Hell, I never even said that I _want _a baby."

Harvey placed his hands on her shoulders, gently turning Donna around and into his embrace. He used his left hand, wedding band against her cheek, to lift her chin so that he could see her face. The disappointment and longing, the sadness found there told him all that he needed to know and all that she wanted — needed, even if she couldn't let herself give into it.

"But you do want one," he said in an attempt to give her the courage to say the words that she didn't want to allow herself to say.

Tears gathered at the corners of Donna's eyes, pools threatening to overflow and she bit her bottom lip with a nod, "Yeah."

A heavy sigh escaped her and Harvey closed his eyes, processing. He wanted that too; a kid with her. _Kids_ with her. He just hadn't realized how much until he saw how much she yearned for it.

"But what if it doesn't happen? We've never exactly been careful and _somehow,_ it hasn't."

She was scared — scared to try, scared to want, scared to _admit_ that she wanted it and not for the first time, Harvey mentally kicked himself for wasting so much time not seeing that she, _Donna_, and the hold she had on his heart had always been there, right in front of his face.

But he hadn't wasted enough time that they were past their prime of wanting or having kids and he had made a promise to the both of them practically a lifetime ago, the night he told her that he loved her and left that he would never let her feel scared like that again. Scared of uncertainty, scared to lose, and despite the ways in which they had broken each other (it was mostly on him, he knew) and repaired and rebuilt, Harvey still held onto that — never wanting her to feel afraid like she did then and like she did now.

"It _will_ happen," he found himself making another promise that he vowed to keep, "It will."

Donna melted into his touch, gluing herself to him while Harvey held her just as tightly. And she, too, found herself believing him — having faith in him the way she always had and always would.

—o—

So they started trying, and not just no birth control, no protection, spontaneous sex like they'd been having for months, for most of their relationship even. They planned and processed and kept track of things in a way that neither of them had ever incessantly kept track of before.

During the first few weeks, Donna realized that she'd never _really_, truly thought about this before — having a baby. Starting a family. At least not until Harvey came to her with that look of forever in his eyes. For years, it had been less a concept that she longed for and more a circumstantial decision — if the time was right, if the person was right — but now, with him, she found herself wanting it. She wanted to be a mom, she wanted Harvey to be a dad. The thought scared and thrilled her more than she ever thought it could.

At the same time, Harvey noticed that there was a vulnerability to Donna, the Donna that wanted a baby, that he had never known. He'd seen her at her highest highs — on stage, as COO, on their wedding day — and her lowest lows — the Coastal Motors incident, blaming herself for Stephen Huntley, when she'd thought he had chosen Paula over her (even though it had never truly been a choice at all) — but seeing her like this? She was strong and excited but simultaneously terrified and nervous and even though he knew that she didn't need him to, Harvey knew that he would do _anything_ to protect that piece of her.

Nothing happened the first month though, not the second either. During the third, they thought maybe, but the bout of nausea had subsided after a few days and was chalked up to a bug going around the office. Donna took each negative result in stride, but still, Harvey could tell that it hurt. It hurt him too.

—

"Why does this have to be so hard?" Donna sighed, the exasperation in her voice evident as she sat down on the couch in Harvey's office.

He looked up from the file in his hands, the beginning of a joke on his lips before Donna held up a finger in warning.

"Don't even think about it."

Throwing her a lopsided grin, he tossed the file aside and came to sit next to her. "What's wrong?"

Donna shook her head, "It's nothing. Rachel asked me to have a girls' night and you know, I'd love to except we're cutting back on alcohol and if I have to tell her that I can't have a couple glasses of wine, she's going to think…"

"She's going to think."

"Yeah, she's going to think that I'm pregnant. And I might be, I might not be, but Harvey, I don't know if I have it in me right now to explain all of this."

Silently, Harvey moved even closer, pulling Donna next to him while her head fell on his shoulder, a waterfall of red over his gray suit jacket. He let his fingers trace up and down her arm, trying to soothe her with words that he couldn't find.

"Maybe you _should_ tell Rachel."

"What?"

"Donna," he said, staring at a speck on the wall in mock interest, "You have me. Always, you know that. But I know that there are things about this… about trying to have a baby, that you don't want to talk to me about and I don't think you should bottle it up either."

Insightful Harvey Specter that tried to handle his emotions like a rational adult rather than forcing them to the back of his mind was still something that Donna was adjusting to, even after more than a year with him. He also knew that even if he wasn't ready to talk about things, most of the time she was and she was grateful for that.

"Have you told anyone? Mike?"

"If Mike knew, Rachel would too," he chuckled softly.

"True."

She would tell Rachel the next night over dinner, after ordering a glass of water instead of their usual bottle of red. If both women fought back tears after she admitted she was afraid that she would never become a mom, it was for them to know.

—o—

A few more months passed, a few more tests. All negative. Donna was on edge and Harvey assured again that it would happen, but any faith he had in himself had begun to falter. Never in her though.

They talked about seeing a specialist, just to make sure but neither had realized before how _unsure_ the thought made them.

The news could be good; nothing was wrong and they just needed to keep trying.

But it could also be bad and put somewhat of a final nail in the coffin of their chances — or, at the very least, it could mean needles and hormones and stress, still without the promise of a baby.

—

"You're gonna be an awesome dad someday," Mike laughed as he watched Harvey play with their client's toddler after the woman had stepped out to make a call. The little girl giggled and tossed the ball he'd rolled back, barely missing his face.

Harvey gave Mike a sad smile, trying to hold back the way his entire body tensed, "I hope so."

"You will be. Trust me. I mean, look at how awesome I turned out."

When Harvey didn't speak, Mike made a move to distract the child before crossing the room to face his friend.

"It'll happen, Harvey."

Harvey looked at him pointedly, trying to assess how much Mike knew and what he knew about he and Donna's current predicament.

"Rachel told me." _Rachel. Of course._

"I don't know what's going to happen if it doesn't," Harvey didn't let his voice break, he didn't, but the look in his eyes said everything.

"There are other ways, you know. Doctors, surrogates. You guys could adopt."

"Yeah. Maybe. Maybe not. But right now… seeing anything beyond this means seeing Donna hurt even more than she already is and I just… I can't think that far ahead."

—o—

The sixth month of officially trying was when it all came to blows.

They were about a dozen negative results in and Donna had had it. Terrified or not, she needed to know whether or not they could actually have this or whether or not she was going to have her heart broken altogether.

"I just need to know, Harvey," Donna argued, pinching the bridge of her nose as she set a glass of water on the kitchen island, "I can't keep doing this. We have to rip the bandaid off sooner or later."

Harvey shook his head, "It hasn't been that long and we've been busy with work lately—"

"_Harvey_."

They had been arguing for days over this; whether or not to see a fertility specialist. Donna insisted that it needed to be now, but Harvey couldn't watch her (their, his) world collapse just yet.

"I—"

She stormed toward the other side of the kitchen, eyes meeting his. Angry, hurt, scared.

"Just admit it."

"Admit what?"

"Admit that you don't want a baby!" her voice cracked, pain visible in the way she looked at him and Harvey almost couldn't believe what he had just heard.

He wanted to be angry and he wanted to be hurt, but all that came was shock. "What?"

The heavy silence hung in their apartment for what felt like an eternity, unable to settle.

"You think I don't want to have a baby with you?"

Donna didn't answer but he could tell by the look in her eyes, the way she trembled just slightly that she hadn't believed her own words.

Taking one step closer, Harvey allowed his hands to settle on her waist, "Donna. I want that. I want to have a baby with you. More than anything."

"I know. I just don't… I don't know why you're so against this appointment."

The words that he needed to say were on the tip of his tongue. He knew them. He had known them the entire time, but still, the fear and anxiety that settled in his chest made him want to keep them to himself because… well, old habits die hard.

"I can't fail you."

Donna's eyes widened in surprise and for a moment, she couldn't breathe.

_I can't fail you._

"Harvey," his name fell from her lips sternly, hands reaching to hold his face while her eyes locked on his. The words she chose rang familiar to ones he had said to her before and they had never been more true than they were now, "You haven't failed me in all the years that I have known you and you won't start now."

She refused to give him the chance to argue with that and closed the distance between them with one quick move; lips against his while everything else disappeared, tear stained cheeks and a thousand promises between them.

—

In the end, a month of tests and doctor's visits told them… absolutely nothing.

"Sometimes it just takes time," the fertility specialist, Dr. Lee told them. She was the best around, recommended by every client, friend, and obstetrician but even she couldn't give them an answer. "Both of your labs look great, and I see no reason that you shouldn't be able to conceive naturally. Just try not to stress and keep trying. If nothing happens in the next few months, we can continue looking into it and start looking at other options but for now, it's all about patience."

But trying not to stress only made things more stressful and after nearly fifteen years working to get where they were, patience was a bit less of a virtue than anyone but the two of them realized.

—o—

Somewhere between months nine and ten, trying became less making love and more going through the motions. The sex was just as good, just as mindblowing as it had always been but it became like clockwork — saved on a calendar for certain dates, nothing spontaneous.

"I don't even know if it's worth all of this," Donna said as she took a sip out of the wine glass that had just been handed her. She was breaking her rule for tonight, drinking wine and eating unhealthy Thai from a place that wasn't as good as her shitty Thai place with Rachel.

"Honey," Rachel grimaced, "I don't think you believe that."

"I don't know, Rach. All things considered, Harvey and I are _great_. We're happy, I love him more than anything, but I'm just exhausted. Not with him or us, but with all of this baby stuff. We hardly talk about anything else. _I_ hardly think about anything else."

"But you still want a baby?"

"Yeah, but…"

"It's a lot on a marriage?"

"Mmhmm. You know Harvey and I… we can get through anything, I'm just tired of going through the motions only to end up disappointed because we aren't getting pregnant."

In truth, Donna had been thinking about it for about a month. She and Harvey _were_ happy and their marriage _was_ great but she hated that she couldn't shake the lump in her throat every time she purchased a pregnancy test, every time someone asked if she and her husband had kids, or every time she saw two parents out and about with a toddler in tow. She hated that they couldn't even have sex without thinking about statistics and outcomes. Opening the floodgates they had nearly a year prior had started to become unbearable.

—

"I think we should stop."

Harvey's hands fell from the knot in his tie and Donna's replaced them, eyes refusing to reach his. "Stop?"

She let out a breath, "I'm not saying that we give up but I can't keep doing this, and I know that it's wearing down on you too."

He nodded once, unconvinced. Donna was protecting herself. He had seen it before, not just when they had first started trying but when she said she didn't feel anything after she kissed him, when she'd agreed to come to the firm with him then created boundaries after the other time, and a dozen other times in between.

She looked up and gave him a small smile after finishing with his tie, one hand reaching for his before giving it a squeeze and turning to leave the room. Harvey's heart broke in an instant — not for himself, not for the baby they may never have, but for the woman he had spent more than half of his adult life in love with and the pain that he couldn't seem to unburden from her.

The quiet sobs not completely masked by the running water of the shower twenty minutes later ingrained themselves in his mind and the most insecure part of himself grasped at the thought that maybe he had failed her after all.

And if he had been the Harvey that he was a few years earlier, he would have let that thought keep him from barging through the closed door and holding her but the man that he became because of her was her husband, who did just that. Harvey climbed in the shower, three piece suit and all, and wrapped Donna in his arms, their tears lost in the water that poured down over them.

She had been strong for him so many times. He could be the strong one for her now.

—o—

They stopped trying.

It was easier than either of them had realized; falling back into their normal, pre-baby making ways. They stopped stressing the way they had been for months before, stopped counting days, stopped scheduling sex. The first month that Donna didn't go out and buy a pregnancy test felt like a relief, she realized.

They ate less salad and more sushi or not-as-shitty-as-Donna's-favorite-shitty-Thai place Thai, and had wine at dinner and scotch in the office.

Things started to seem… almost normal.

But Harvey watched the way Donna had to tear her gaze away from Sheila and Lucy while FaceTiming Louis and Donna felt Harvey flinch, his hand tightening around hers when Marcus questioned eventual unclehood (_Mom always thought you'd be a great dad, Dad insisted he'd have redheaded grandkids after he met Donna_).

Acceptance… it was going to take time. Getting to a place where they could talk about alternatives, well, that was going to take longer.

—

A trip to Chicago would do them (and Jessica) good, Donna suggested. A few days in a new city, one night at a charity gala in support of their friend's cause, and free time together as a _normal _couple out of their element was supposed to clear their minds.

Standing by the bar with a glass of champagne pressed to her lips, Donna eyes found Harvey across the room. He was next to their former boss, feigning interest in the conversation around him — schmoozing billionaire investors into caring about something beyond themselves, but she was the only thing holding his attention.

"It looks like you have an admirer."

Donna chuckled, "My husband."

An older woman moved next to her, clearly watching the way Harvey couldn't seem to tear his gaze away, "How long have you two been together?"

"Fifteen years."

It wasn't a _lie_, necessarily. They had been a team that long, longer even, and trying to explain anything further was a moot point. Besides, he was right. It felt like they _had_ always been together.

"And he still looks at you like that?" the woman glanced between them in awe, "He's a keeper."

"_He is_." Donna said, a gentle smile spreading across her face as Harvey looked at her curiously. She watched him whisper something to Jessica and excuse himself before he made his way back to her.

"Do you have any children?"

If the woman noticed the way she tensed for just a split second, she couldn't say but Harvey's hand on the small of her back a moment later told Donna that he'd caught it.

It wasn't that she hadn't gotten the question before — she had, more than either of them cared to acknowledge. But the way this woman asked, her observation of their relationship leading the question, hit Donna straight in the chest. She knew what she was picturing (she had pictured it every day for the last year).

"I—"

"Do you mind if I steal my wife?" Harvey asked. He could sense the tension radiating through Donna by the way she carried herself.

"Not at all."

Harvey's hand slid down her arm, fingers lacing through Donna's as he pulled off in the direction of the exit. She couldn't speak or tell him what had happened — she wasn't even sure that he heard what the woman asked — but Donna knew that he knew.

"Are you okay?"

She tried to mask the look on her face, the actress in her faltering upon first attempt, "Better now."

—

Hours later, the night sky shifted around them, casting an unfamiliar cyan haze over a city that wasn't their own as the early morning crept in. Donna's nails trailed the light stubble on Harvey's jaw, their eyes locked on each other in a silent conversation much quieter than the waking world outside.

Harvey's left hand wandered upward from the base of her spine, fingers mesmerized by every inch of soft skin beneath. His right tangled in her hair, brushing the loose red strands behind her ear. The pain in her eyes stung, crippling his heart but the love within the depth of her sadness was enough to hold him steady. It was everything.

They'd been like this for hours; awake against the world after trying yet failing to fall asleep — holding onto each other with everything either had, in one way or another. Now Donna straddled Harvey's lap, body pressed against the warmth of his bare chest while her gaze never left his.

"I can't stop thinking about it," she whispered.

"_Donna_."

Shaking her head, Donna bit down on her bottom lip to stop it from quivering, "I thought it would be easy. Or that it should be easy. So many things come naturally to me, Harvey, you know that. And after all of our tests results were normal, I thought…"

"Donna, it's not your fault."

"I just wanted… I wanted to get pregnant so badly," her breath came out in a shudder, the build up of months of emotional turmoil coursing through Donna's system. "And then when it didn't happen, I thought — I thought that I would be okay, I thought that our life would go back to normal but now people ask and it's expected and…"

Bracing himself mentally, Harvey took a chance, "Are you ready? To start talking about alternatives, I mean."

The room went completely still for another moment, thoughts racing through her mind before Donna shook her head and fought the tears that surged forward, "No."

He didn't fight her. He wasn't going to.

"Okay. Whenever you're ready… _if _you're ever ready, you know I'll be here. Donna, you'll always have me."

Closing the distance, Donna fused her lips to his. Instantly, naturally, instinctively, Harvey deepened the kiss as her hands moved from their place on his face and her arms wound around his neck, fingers threading through his hair. In turn, Harvey's own moved up her body — slowly worshiping.

His mouth trailed from hers down her neck, meeting the spot at Donna's collarbone that never failed to elicit a reaction — her arching into him, as he used one hand to brace himself on the bed and shifted their positions, laying her on her back. Harvey moved lower still, with her legs wrapped around him like an anchor. An anchor grounding him to her like he had been for years, like he planned to be for the rest of his life.

There was a security in that — encased in the way they moved between sorrow and safety; skin on skin, her grip lost between his shoulders and neck, his lips between her breasts, bodies connecting in every way as they slowly made love in the calm morning light. The world settled around them and for the first time in a long time, nothing else mattered.

—o—

As time went on, things did start to feel normal again. A new normal, nonetheless, but normal in a way that time escaped them almost too easily (until it didn't).

In actuality, it was the date that stood out. _The goddamn date._

She sat on the cold bathroom floor, back against the side of the tub, just waiting. Waiting for something to happen, waiting to feel broken again, waiting the same way they had been for longer than she cared to think about.

Nearly four months had passed since they officially stopped trying to get pregnant, still not preventing it but no longer expecting it to happen naturally. It wasn't a goal anymore, so much as it was something that they just… put out of their minds, maybe, possibly waiting for the day when it felt safe to broach the subject, safe to talk about hormone treatments or other options. Close to a year of trying to no avail would do that to a person; crushing their spirit just a tiny bit more every time it didn't work

But three days ago Donna threw up, passing it off as the stomach flu until it continued beyond the normal twenty-four hour period. With that, she noticed her aversion to her coffee, Harvey's aftershave, and the shitty Thai place that wasn't her shitty Thai place. Then Rachel mentioned the date.

She was late, and more than a few days late. _Three weeks late_.

Even then, with all of the signs that she knew to look for and the way that she could feel it in her bones, Donna was terrified to hope for it. So she didn't tell Harvey — she couldn't. Not when they spent so many months chasing symptoms and staring at little plastic sticks that ultimately amounted to nothing. Instead she took a half day, bought one of every brand of test in the drugstore down the street, and found herself on the floor of the bathroom in their apartment.

The two minute timer counting down on her phone felt like an eternity, yet not long enough and any blame or reason for the queasiness in the pit of her stomach couldn't be placed.

She thought about pacing, using the anxious energy radiating through her to move but the idea of trying to stand right now, trying to pull herself to her feet and avoid the pregnancy test on the counter surrounded by an empty box and discarded directions that she'd seen too many times to need was _too_ much.

A breath escaped her lips in unison with the sound of her phone beeping, timer coming to an end and Donna felt her stomach drop, her heart stop, and her organs fail as anxiety riddled itself through her bones.

_Now or never._

She could get up and cross the bathroom, stand with her hips just inches from the countertop and stare down at something that could change her — their — future forever or she could stay where she was, on the floor, unmoving and wait for the bottom to drop out of her world. Again. The way it had for months.

_Goddamn it._

Donna pulled herself up off the floor before her mind had time to protest and moved toward the sink, forcing herself not to catch her reflection in the mirror. If she saw it, she would back out. She would move back to where she sat previously or turn around and leave the bathroom entirely. She kept moving.

And as she took an unsteady breath, forcing her eyes to the counter below, begging them to fall on the little white stick that sat there, her heart _shattered _— breaking like porcelain on concrete, a thousand pieces refusing to settle, an overwhelming sensation and a rush, ringing through her ears.

The hot, heavy tears that fell felt like nothing she had ever felt before and Donna realized almost instantly that in all the years she'd ever thought about accidents, in all the months that they tried with purpose, with each test that she took, she _never_ expected it to feel like this.

_Pregnant_.

The little screen on the ClearBlue test practically screamed up at her, begging to be held before she picked it up, reading the word a thousand times over.

And then the world started spinning again.

"Oh my god."

For a moment, just a split second, the room felt so empty, so alone without Harvey there (even if she technically wasn't alone). He had been next to her for almost all of the others, both of their faces falling every time the result wasn't what they had been hoping for. Not having him there now, for this, when _it _had finally happened felt… off. But then Donna allowed herself to rationalize; if this hadn't turned out this way, if she had told him that she thought that she might be pregnant only to be faced with another "not this time"... she didn't think she could handle watching that play out again.

In truth, it didn't matter now.

She held the first (what would be the first of many that day) positive pregnancy test in hand and let the tears fall over the disbelieving smile on her face before deciding to take another. Just to be sure — to make sure that this wasn't a fluke, or a false positive.

Within twenty minutes, seven other tests told her exactly what the first had and for the first time in months, Donna felt really, truly happy. More than that, she felt relieved.

—

"Hey," Harvey said when he walked in the door and saw Donna on the couch, absentmindedly (or so he thought) scrolling through the phone in her hand. He kissed her temple before removing his suit jacket and began working to roll up his sleeves.

"Hey."

"You okay? You left early and I figured—"

He stopped once he noticed the look on her face, the suspicious look of her narrowed eyes and the delicate smile playing at her lips. Something felt different, lighter about Donna. Something that he hadn't realized how much he _missed_.

She stood from the couch, hand coming to meet his before giving him a gentle tug in the direction of their bedroom, "Come here. I have something to show you."

Harvey allowed her to lead him through their room and into their ensuite bathroom, confusion evident in the raise of his eyebrow. She moved toward the mirror and stopped, standing there the way they had a thousand times before — him behind her, usually with his lips on her neck or his fingers brushing against her waist or… _elsewhere_.

"Donna, what's going on?"

Her eyes met his behind her in the reflection and something that Harvey had never seen before lingered there as she spoke, "Do you remember the day we decided to start trying to get pregnant?"

He nodded, "Yeah."

"I couldn't tell you or myself that I wanted it but you _knew_."

He remembered that. Of course he remembered that.

"We were standing like this, in the same spot," Donna said, painting a picture, "And I was so disappointed that it hadn't happened yet and I couldn't understand _why_ it hurt so much, but you could. For as many jokes as people have made over the years about me having to explain your feelings to you, I couldn't explain my own but you knew. You just knew, Harvey."

"Donna, I… where are you going with this?"

"You told me that you couldn't fail me."

Harvey nodded again, a lump forming in his throat as he tried to understand what he was missing.

Donna turned around to face him then, much like the day they decided to start trying but his hands were on her hips instead of her shoulders and he wasn't the one guiding her. This time, she didn't need him to help her open up.

"Harvey, you didn't fail me," her voice shook but tears clung to the corners of her eyes as she watched the confusion etch itself into his face. Releasing a breath, she dug into the pocket of her sweater and pulled out an all too familiar object.

Donna's eyes met his again as she held the pregnancy test up and flipped it around to face him, daring him to look at it.

He did, brown eyes reading the word over and over and over, shock apparent in the way they widened like hers had a few hours earlier before they flickered back up to her.

"Holy shit."

"Is that a good 'holy shit' or a bad 'holy shit'?"

"You're— you're sure?"

"I took _eight _tests, I'm _sure_," she laughed, the disbelief behind her tone matching the look that stunned his face and the tears previously threatening to spill rolled down her cheeks.

A wave of emotion crashed over him an instant, arms wrapping fully around Donna just as quickly, bringing her closer as Harvey buried his face in her neck. Everything, all of it, the pain, the guilt, the strength that he had upheld for her all this time shifted then — a breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding falling from his lips in relief.

"You're pregnant."

Donna pulled back just slightly, enough to face him again and wrapped her arms around Harvey's neck. They shared a look between watery smiles and even softer eyes, every word they couldn't find moving from a state of solid to liquid and back to solid.

"I'm _pregnant_."

It happened_. IT happened._

Their lips met; soft and wanting, heavy and light, relieved. All at once. The revelation that this was finally actually happening creeping up and sinking in slowly… until Donna turned her head with a groan.

"_Oh god_, you're going to have to change your aftershave."

"What?" Harvey laughed slightly taken aback, "You picked—"

"The smell… I… _no_," she backed out of his embrace and hurriedly stepped toward the toilet.

The grin that grew on Harvey's face before he followed Donna's steps, leaning down to hold her hair and rub her back said it all: _Everything's changed_. _Again_.

_Finally._

—

_End._

* * *

_So anyway, this may be the borderline of that, but I really tried to stay away from the age-ism that there is re: Donna getting pregnant (because I very much disagree with it) but still, this situation was very interesting work with, especially because it's a lot more common than we realize._

_I hope you enjoyed and thank you for reading!_

_Comments, criticism, and the works are always welcome!_


End file.
